


5 things that caused Wilbur to blow up L'manberg

by fandoms_trash



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Manberg, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-War, Pre-War, War, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot-centric, l'manberg, middle child pain, middle child wilbur, sleepy bois dynamic, the finale, wilbur is a crazy bastard but we still love him anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:07:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandoms_trash/pseuds/fandoms_trash
Summary: AKA the things that pushed Wilbur to his descent of madnessInvolves a fair amount of angst. I had to suffer after the finale, now so do you.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot/Sally the Salmon, previous Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 25
Kudos: 268





	1. Blood for the blood god

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur's reflections on being bros with the blade. Living up to people's legacy is hard.

Being the middle child was supposed to be hard enough. Being the younger sibling of a legend and the older brother of a hyperactive energy ball made it much worse.

"And Technoblade has won the battle! 6-4, was a close one, don't you think so, Lisa?" The commentator on the TV exclaimed. Wilbur watched with big eyes. He knew his brother was good, but holy prime, he had won against Dream, who some considered one of the best fighters in the land. There was a reason why Techno was admired by everyone, and Wilbur would be lying if he said he never felt jealous of his older brother.

"Yes! Go Technoblade!" The hyperactive ball of energy that was Wilbur's younger brother yelled, "I knew you would win against that son of a bitch!"

"Tommy!" Philza (or Dadza as Wilbur liked to called him) lightly smacked the young blonde at the back of the head. "Though, in all honestly, that was an amazing match, Techno. You did very well. I'm proud of you." Wilbur almost flinched at the last statement. What he wouldn't give to hear his dad say that to him.

Techno laughed the way he always did when he was uncomfortable with the attention. "It was a rough match, Dream is a really good player."

"Well I'm glad you didn't let violence get into your head. You even split the winning money with him. That was a good thing you did." Philza chuckled and ruffled Techno's pink hair. It used to be quite long, and he had often let Wilbur braid it for him when they were younger. Some might have called it 'girly', but Wilbur liked the feeling of the hair smoothly falling into place as he formed a neat pattern. Plus, he enjoyed the comfortable silence that he had shared with his brother. They don't that anymore: after the older decided he wanted to become a master warrior, he had cut his hair into a more shorter length. He spent more and more of his time training with his masters, until most of his time was spent far away with the best of the best fighters. He almost never visited anymore.

"I think you should have just taken the whole bloody thing! I mean, the amount of new things that we could buy with $100,000 is crazy!" Tommy commentated.

"50,000 is still a lot of money Tommy..." Techno replied.

"Yeah, well that might be true but more money is better!"

Philza put his hand on Wilbur's shoulder, causing the boy to snap out of his amusement watching his brothers. "I'm going to start cleaning up. Could you help me with your brothers?"

"Sure." Philza depended on Wilbur for a lot of things. Even though he wasn't the oldest, he was to take care of his brothers and be a good role model for Tommy. Considering that Techno was not really around to be a model for Wilbur, he had to navigate his own path while setting one up for his younger brother. _(Not that Tommy really appreciated it much; he always admired Techno more than him.)_ Even though he wasn't the youngest, he often had to do most of the chores, since Tommy wouldn't do his and Wilbur didn't want Philza to be more stressed than he already was.

It is probably a selfish thought, but Wilbur wanted nothing more than acknowledgement for the amount of hard work he put into his family, and how much he tried to balance his life while helping others with theirs.

"C'mon Tommy, stop bothering Techno." Wilbur said, "He's probably really tired from his flight anyway."

"Hey, that reminds me. Techno, can you tell me the story about how you took over the world?" Techno grinned and walked with Tommy into their room. "Sure kiddo."

Wilbur watched as Techno and Tommy strolled away, talking about probably one of the biggest projects that Wilbur had worked on _(and the project he thought would finally take him out of Techno's shadow)_. SMP Earth was something that Wilbur worked tirelessly on for months, desperate to prove to himself that he was given the opportunity because of his skills, not because he was Techno's brother. It had managed to become mainstream somehow, and Wilbur almost got his taste of glory before his brothers joined. Of course, he had no problem with them, not until they started taking over the entire SMP and everyone knew who they were. Wilbur was no longer "the creator of SMP Earth", but more "the brother of Technoblade and TommyInnit from SMP Earth". The Antarctic Empire made it much worse. When it came to be that Techno outsmarted everyone and claimed the whole world, Techno's already popular popularity skyrocketed, and when they came back home after the end of SMP Earth, Techno's takeover was the only topic of conversation.

Wilbur sighed, wiping that memory from his mind. It wasn't Techno's fault that he was popular and likeable- _hell_ , he probably didn't even like the fame with his socially awkward ass. Wilbur just needed to find something that could separate him from "Techno's brother", and help him make a name for himself. Maybe then Philza would finally look him in the eyes and manage to say that he was proud of him for once.

He slowly picked up the popcorn bowls and walked to the kitchen to help out his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo that's the first chapter completed! I'll try to update everyday until I'm done. I have a lot in mind and I can't wait to share it all with you guys :)


	2. You're never going to be president (now)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy was the hero, the protagonist. And Wilbur is the side character in his own life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! It will be a bit more consistent from now on. My computer's files got corrupted and I had lost my drafted chapters so I had to rewrite everything. But I'm back now with more motivation then ever! There's more chapters on the way! Enjoy :D

Wilbur hadn't meant for his drug-selling business to become a nation. It was a big shift from what he had planned originally, but it didn't mean that Wilbur didn't like being the leader of the rising country. It had allowed Wilbur to use his words to lead a group of people that actually listened to him and trusted him. Finally a group of people who had believed in him, and wanted him to lead them into the new era. He was someone _important_ in L'manberg. He wasn't just the person who got into the SMP because of his brothers. Nor the person who didn't really have skills that proved useful for survival. He was the one people looked up to and wanted to be friends with. Wilbur would be lying if he said that the attention wasn't addicting.

Furthermore, it allowed him to spend more time with his younger brother. He had made Tommy his right hand man (obviously) because there was no one Wilbur trusted more with the future of the land other than his younger brother. After their family had gone their own ways since SMP Earth, he hardly saw his 16 year old brother anymore. It always dawned on Wilbur that Tommy was still a kid (even though the younger loved to deny it), and Wilbur wanted nothing but the best childhood for him. He saw how happy L'manberg had made him. Tommy practically spent most of his time on the SMP gathering resources for making monuments in the country, or debating with Dream about the legalities of starting a nation within another power-greedy nation. Wilbur often had more time to fool around with him as if they were 14 and 10: making fun of each other, yelling Hamilton lyrics at the top of their lungs and just _talking_.

Tommy had asked him a question on the beginning of their supposed doomsday. "Do you think we'll win?"

Wilbur had just smiled back at him as he leaned over to smoothen the younger's uniform sleeve. "Of course. Because at the end of the day, we'll still have each other."

Even during the massacre in the final control room due to Eret's betrayal, they had stayed side by side and fought valiantly. They were fighting for the future of L'manberg. For the future of the citizens. For what ought to be. And yet Wilbur knew deep down that those were not the true reasons why he was fighting. He tried to ignore it at first, but it had crept up on him in the end, when he had to finally face the facts: he was doing it for himself. 

He wasn't someone who many would've called selfish, but Wilbur couldn't get rid of the ambitious pit that grew in the bottom of his heart, as he realised what L'manberg's independence would give him. _Power, respect and love._ Three things that Wilbur had always been denied no matter how hard he worked for it. The freedom of their land and people meant that Wilbur would finally be recognised as someone who people could love. He would be a hero if he lived, and if he died, he would be a martyr who fought against tyranny. Either way, it was a win-win situation for him. It couldn't go wrong, as long as he was on the right side of history.

But as the words left Tommy's mouth, Wilbur saw his whole plan crumbling. "I'm going to duel Dream."

"W-wait what?" Wilbur asked, desperate for Tommy to assure him that he wasn't ruining Wilbur's chances. Tommy apparently took his desperation as worry for his safety.

"It'll be okay, Wilbur. I'm going to kill that green bastard and L'manberg is going to be free." Tommy took his crossbow and silently marched to face Dream. Wilbur shakily stood to count them in.

"1. 2. 3." Would he be a bad brother if he wanted Tommy to lose?

"4. 5. 6." Tommy would be a legend if he won. All the L'manbergians would worship him. Wilbur would be completely forgotten.

"7. 8. 9." But if Tommy didn't win, L'manberg wouldn't win their independence. Either way Wilbur would lose this battle.

"10 paces. Fire!"

It pained him to see Tommy get shot. The chances of him winning against Dream were zero to none. Everyone knew that.

Wilbur ran to Tommy's side desperately and quickly checked his stats. 7 and a half hearts. Injured, but stable. Wilbur sighed. That was that. They didn't win the battle.

"Tommy. Holy _shit_!"

But Tommy was only focused on his opponent. "Dream wait!" Their enemies turned as Wilbur helped a struggling Tommy stand.

"Dream, I know what you want." _No._

The people of Dream SMP had their weapons in their hands, but lowered it when their commander gave a wait signal. "I'm listening."

"The discs. I'll give you _both_ Cat and Mellohi." _Oh god no._ "Just... let L'manberg be independent."

"That's... really _selfless_ of you, Tommy." Dream said, seemingly amused and confused at the same time.

"So? We got a deal?" Everyone was looking at the two of the most unpredictable people on the server. Tension was thick in the air.

Dream smirked as he shook Tommy's outstretched hand. "We can do the deal now, actually. Give me the discs and we'll leave you _L'manbergians_ alone."

As Tommy and Dream walked away to the embassy, Wilbur didn't know what to do or say.

"Does this mean we _won_?" Someone asked, and the crowd of L'manberg citizens exploded into cheers. Wilbur let out a confused, choked laugh. So that was it. The deal had been sealed, and he wrote the new Declaration of Independance. He declared himself president, and no one seemed to have a problem with that. He elected Tommy to be his right hand man again. Treasurer, and Tubbo would also work alongside them as Secretary of State.

Even though everything had worked out well, Wilbur wasn't fully pleased with the outcome. They were war veterans now, but all everyone seemed to be able to talk about was Tommy's _selfless sacrifice_. Tommy had even ran excitedly into the van at one point some days after the war and told Wilbur how Philza had called.

"-And he said how proud he was that I made a sacrifice for the betterment of everyone else!" Wilbur nodded like he wasn't affected at all.

"That's great, Tommy. You deserve it you know. I'm proud of you too." Tommy had run off afterwards, probably to boast to Tubbo again. Wilbur just sat in his presidential chair. Not one call from Dadza no matter how much Wilbur had texted him. And yet, Tommy recieves a _"I'm proud of you"_ for protecting a country that _Wilbur_ created. He hadn't been planning to do this so early after the war, but he was getting desperate.

It was time to hold the first official presidencial election of L'manberg.


	3. Like father like son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Wilbur wanted was to protect his son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually know if this is a longer chapter. I struggled to write this one for some reason. The last few chapters are where shit really goes down and they're almost ready to be published.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter :)

When Sally (the salmon) had left Wilbur _(for "artistic differences")_ , he had almost lost his son. That was probably why he was overprotective of Fundy. Or maybe it was Wilbur's own issues with family abandonment that he wanted to give Fundy the world, and make sure he didn't have to have a care in the world.

Wilbur, however, was a busy man. He couldn't always be there, but he would sacrifice all of his free time (plus sleep time) just to be there for his son. Fundy's first soccer game where was was actually _in_ the game and not on the bench. Fundy's coding competition (that lasted about for a week; Wilbur stayed up with Fundy to help him when he had issues) where he had won first place. Fundy's talent show performance. Moments he hoped his son would remember and know that someone loved him. So when his son yelled at him that he was the worst father anyone could ask for, Wilbur couldn't think of what to say.

It all started earlier that day, when Wilbur was in his office, trying to create a better election campaign than his rival party, Swag2020. Fundy had burst into his office, seemingly excited about something. Seeing his son immediately put a smile on Wilbur's face. That smile soon disappeared when Fundy told him the big news.

"You're _running against me_?!"

"Well, if the president is from a younger generation, it would help bring in new perspectives." Fundy replied, his excitement slowly turning into confusement and moderated anger. "Plus, I just want to help out our nation, and this'll help me rise above my station. People already think that I'm a coward because you wouldn't let me on the battlefield during our independence war." _(He had whispered the last part. Wilbur still heard it though.)_

Wilbur sighed, pushing back his hair before he slapped his general hat back on. "I admire your dedication to our nation, Fundy, but I can't allow you to run. You're _far_ too young, and you could be placed on a hit list for this! I'm not risking you getting in danger. Look, I truly think that you are capable to run the nation, son, but I just-"

Fundy's calm composure broke into something nastier. "God! You're so _annoying_ , you know?" Wilbur unconsciously took a step back. "All of my friends' parents would be proud of their kids for stepping out of their comfort zone, but no. You're _always_ lecturing me about how its 'not safe, Fundy' and how you just want the best for me. But honestly, you aren't even _there_ half the time, and you think you have the right to just rule over my life and decisions? No, _fuck you_. You're literally the worst father anyone could ask for." Fundy stormed out of the office, making sure to slam the door hard so that it left a mark.

Wilbur stood in the same place for god knows how long, staring at his door, wondering what he did wrong.

He tried to be much looser with Fundy after that. Even though Wilbur worried about Fundy's safety, he let him go to bars with his friends and stay out late at night. Even though he itched to call his son after it became quite late and the streets of L'manberg was quiet, Fundy's words repeated in his head and he wasn't able to tell him how worried he was.

 _Worst father_. The words repeated in his head even as he tried to block them out. Wilbur took a sip from the bottle before realising he was out already. He had promised himself that he wouldn't drink alcohol ever again, but he just needed a release _(old habits die hard)_. It was only one bottle too, it wouldn't be great if he drank so much he missed the election results tomorrow. He checked his phone once more. _1:48 pm_. Fundy would probably be back soon. He had better head to his room before his son arrived so as to not be a burden to him. He wondered if he should clean up the mess around him, but even standing up was hard, so he just stumbled back to his room, managing to at least throw the bottle into a trash can on his way.

Standing up in front of all the L'manberg citizens, Wilbur glanced toward his running mate, his _brother_ , and threw a reassuring smile. Even after all this time, he was still the one to take care of his younger brother. He was lucky to have him on his side. A popular candidate, even if many people didn't really like that candidate. Still, Tommy brought forth many supporters towards their side, and many more followed after the news broke out about Tommy's one-on-one duel and sacrifice of his disks during L'manberg's independence war.

He glanced to his right and saw his main competition, Quackity. His running mate George was no where to be found. Schlatt stood alone, and Wilbur tried not to think about it. And the last was Fundy and Niki.

Wilbur and Niki were very close friends, and he knew that she meant no harm in running against him. When she saw him looking, she smiled and waved back. Fundy didn't look over. His face displayed no emotion other than ambition and confidence.

"In fourth place, Coconut2020 with 9% of the popular vote!" Wilbur beamed at Fundy. Even though Fundy's party came in last place, he was proud that he had tried (no matter what Fundy wanted to believe). He wasn't going to let a fight get in the way of his pride of his son. Fundy looked over and smiled back, and Wilbur thought that maybe things were going to be okay between them after all. If he wins, he would make sure to give Fundy a spot in his committee, as a first start to show him how much he trusted and appreciated him.

"And in first place, with 45% of the popular vote, is Pog2020!" The crowd cheered and Wilbur embraced Tommy into a gleeful hug before pulling away to take his spot on the podium. When he arrived at the podium, the announcer of the results paid him no attention and continued speaking. "However, due to a coallition government between Schlatt2020 and Swag2020, votes pulled together being _46%_ of the popular vote, our new president is Mr Schlatt, with Mr Quackity as the vice! (Mr GeorgeNotFound remains, not found.)"

Shocked, Wilbur couldn't move. The rest of L'manberg was quiet, waiting for something to happen. Schlatt pushed Wilbur aside and he stumbled backwards.

"Get down there, lover boy. You aren't president anymore." Quackity followed Schlatt soon after, throwing a smirk to Wilbur as the old president retreated into the crowd of citizens who were looking at him in shock and confusion.

Schlatt tapped the mic as the people of L'manberg awaited his first decree. "Well, that was easy." The crowd burst into uneasy chuckles as those who voted for him cheered him on loudly.

"Now, my first decree, as president, the _emperor_ , of this great country..." He paused for dramatic effect. The bastard. "Is to revoke the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit." Wilbur looked up in shock. _No way._ How could something that was supposed to be a flawless plan and give him more power backfire like this? He stood dazed at what had happened when Tommy tugged on the sleeve of his suit as Schlatt's goons and followers started circling them.

"T-Tommy, run!" He yelled as he tried to get away. As he tried to make his way to the underground tunnels of L'manberg, Wilbur felt something sting his side, stopping him abruptly in his tracks. He stumbled and fell, his heart pounding as he scrambled to get up. His left side was covered in red, his blood. His head pounding, Wilbur barely got up before being knocked back to the ground again by someone. They grinded their heal on his wound as he cried out in pain and for help before grabbing the person's foot and swiping it under them (old habits do indeed die hard). The netherite helmet knocked off as the person hit the ground, and Wilbur recognised his attacker as Punz. _What was he doing in L'manberg_ _? Wasn't he a member of the Dream SMP?_ It didn't matter now. Footsteps were getting louder, and Wilbur quickly got up to get away from the infuriated Punz. He clenched his teeth and held his side as he bit in the pain, using the underground tunnel to travel as quickly as possible to the outskirts of the city where he might be able to find his right hand man.

The walls were being torn down. Schlatt's second decree. Wilbur watched from afar as the walls he once built to keep his people _(and his son)_ safe were ruined. A small figure started climbing up towards the flag, higher than the rest of the citizens at work. Wilbur squinted to see who it was. Orange fur. Fundy. In horror, he watched as his son struck the flint and steel against the flag, burning down the last thing that made L'manberg Wilbur's. Of course his son would choose Schlatt.

"I can't watch this anymore." Wilbur said and turned on his heel to leave. Tommy followed him soon after.


	4. Everybody wants to rule the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Schlatt wasn't the bad guy. Wilbur wasn't the good guy. None of them were what they seemed, nor were they what they wanted to be.

It had always been Wilbur and Schlatt. Schlatt and Wilbur. The two boys who faced the world together.

So what went wrong?

When Schlatt announced his presidency, Wilbur didn't think that people would take it seriously. In fact, he thought most people who voted for Schlatt would vote as a joke! Never could he have predicted that a mere 1% of _his_ people were the ones to bring him down. But there were people _cheering_ for his resignation. Cheering for his exile. Cheering at the fact that there is no more Wilbur Soot to ruin their lives.

It was weird to think that the original independence war was just a month ago. Maybe they had just wanted him there because he was one of the only people who were actively against Dream. One of the people who could bring them L'manberg. Now that they had their nation, there was no more need for him. Like always, Wilbur Soot was just someone who people used to gain the upper hand. He wasn't important. Nor was he wanted. Why did he always make the same mistake?

He was suddenly feeling bitter over his loss all over again. Wilbur felt the dangerous feeling creep up at the back of his head _(the want to punch the entire shit out of Schlatt-)_ and got up from his bed to take a walk around Pogtopia. Ever since he lost _literally everything_ , Wilbur started to think he understood what it was like to go crazy. He understood the feeling of just _not giving a damn_ about everything (It's not like anyone would care if he died, so why should he?) and the overload of his senses as voices (both outside and inside his head) shouted at him. This time, the voices inside his head just didn't seem to want to leave him alone. He didn't know when he started hearing them, but it was probably a side-effect of self-destructiveness. After all, it was different from Technoblade's voices. Technoblade had voices in his head since he was born, and _only_ Techno had those type of voices. _(Phil had once told him that Techno was special because of it. Does this make him special now too?)_ Plus, deep down, Wilbur knew that the voices were him, tearing himself apart from the inside. They were the embodiment of everything that he hated about himself, finally given a voice. Sometime recently though, Wilbur started to hate _everything_ about himself. Maybe that's why they were so loud.

He finally had enough of seeing the same stupid ravine over and over, and left the "safety" of Pogtopia and ventured into the woods, unconsciously walking to wherever his feet took him.

Wilbur would(should) have been more careful if he gave a damn, but when he finally zoned back into the har _sh, stupid, messed up-_ reality of the world, he was overlooking the land of Manberg. _(His)_ People were running around (laughing, cheerful) as they carefully assembled places and decorations for the upcoming festival. They looked happy _(much happier than when he was president)_ and content with the workings of the current (L')Manberg.

"Well, well, well!" Wilbur jumped at the noise, his head to noisy and crowded to distinguish whether that was actually someone talking to him or him talking to himself again. He looked around quickly, hoping very much that it was himself, as if it was the person who he thought it was- "You aren't allowed on my turf anymore, Virgo."

 _"Schlatt."_ Wilbur conveyed no emotion. (He had gotten quite good at covering up his true thoughts since he was young. Who knew it would be so useful now?) He steeled himself as he stared directly into the eyes of his enemy (once friend-).

"Eyy, relax a bit, would ya?" Schlatt was drunk. He was _fucking drunk_. "Let's have a couple shots together. I'm tired of this presidency-exile-resistance stuff. I don't give a shit whether your on my land or not."

The want to punch Schlatt returned. Wilbur stood his ground. "You know, if you didn't want to be political, you didn't _need to run against me_."

"Why are you being so serious? It's just a joke, Wil! A haha! Big funny!"

"This isn't a _fucking joke_ , Schlatt. You should actually start taking this stuff seriously. You're not fit to be president."

Schlatt stopped for a moment at Wilbur's words, and shakily walked up to Wilbur, their faces so close that their noses were almost touching. The president's face was stony, eyes dark and cloudy as it surveyed over Wilbur's determined face.

"And what makes you think you are?"

Wilbur scowled. This was not a conversation he wanted to have with a man who took everything from him. "Most of your votes were from SWAG2020. You won by 1%."

"Well, I still won, didn't I? Everyone knew the coalition existed. Hell, _you know_ that everyone knew."

Of course he knew that people knew about the coalition. He was taking his anger out on Schlatt because he was too much of a coward to face that people didn't want him. Wilbur wasn't going to face the truth today, nor was he ever going to stop running from everything that he knew would kill him emotionally. Schlatt was the only thing blocking him from dashing away, an anchor that made him face reality as it was. Wilbur had appreciated it a long time ago, back when they were friends. Back when they used to go exploring together. Surviving together in a world where living wasn't an option. Even though they joked around constantly, Schlatt was always there to care for him, telling him that he wasn't alone. No matter how much he isolated himself, Schlatt had been there for him.

Maybe that's why it hurt when Schlatt ran for president and stole Wilbur's chance at securing his glory and getting rid of his paranoia. Maybe the reason why Wilbur was going crazy was because he didn't know what had been real anymore. Was Schlatt ever his friend? Did he ever actually like(love) him?

"People liked it when I was president."

"Maybe." Schlatt said nonchalantly, setting the wine bottle he held next to a tree. "But people are actually _happy_ under my presidency."

"You know what, fuck you Schlatt. You think you're such a good person, a good president. You aren't jack shit-"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Wilbur. Let go of your goddamn ego for a second and acknowledge what everyone wanted you to know. _No one wanted you as president._ You're such a fucking kid. Honestly, I wasn't going to even exile you but you're just so goddamn petty! It's better that you're out of Manberg. You and that kid brother of yours are nothing but trouble. Stop thinking you're the hero."

Wilbur stayed silent. Schlatt was always brutally honest. And quite frankly, Wilbur did bring this upon himself, didn't he? He didn't need to call the election. He got too cocky, and he lost everything trying to gain the one thing he realised he would never get.

"I'll call the damn guards if you really want that. They can throw you into jail or execute you or crap. I'm pretty sure they'll thank you too for making them work on their off-day." Schlatt, now in a foul mood, started walking back down to the hill. "What the hell happened to us, huh?"

Schlatt didn't call the guards. Maybe because he didn't actually want Wilbur to get in trouble, or maybe it was because he didn't want to be the bad guy. As he walked down the hill to come face-to-face with his vice Quackity, he hated what he became. Since when did he put the betterment of the majority over his friends? Since when was he the guy who kicked out his best friend and a kid because he was threatened by their immense following and power? Maybe he had already became everything he hated when he had declared his running for presidency.

Wilbur sat down next to a tree. He felt like a kid again. Alone and unwanted.

He knew he hyped himself more than he deserved. More than what he truly was. He wasn't the person who brought L'manberg independence, that was Tommy. He wasn't the good dad that he had hoped to be, nor was he the president that the people deserved. Maybe it was better that he was exiled. Maybe he was useless after all.

Schlatt had left the bottle of wine he had with him. It was practically untouched, almost full. Wilbur reached for it and took a long swig. He better be fucking drunk by the time he returned to Pogtopia.

_(He wasn't a leader. Everyone but him knew that. And now he knew it too.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for taking so long to update! Been a bit busy with school starting (pog through the pain)
> 
> I'm determined to finish this though, so don't worry! Update might just take a bit, but it will come.


	5. Aren't you proud of me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur's final confrontation with his dad

_< One image attatched>_

_WilburSoot: Heya, Dadza! Me and Tommy are in the Dream SMP! I_ _started a nation recently! It was originally a drug van, but now we're a family going against tyranny! This is a picture of all of us together. Do_ _you like the outfits?_ _(If you ever come over, I can introduce you to all the people of L'manberg! I'm sure they'll all be happy to meet you!)_

\--

_WilburSoot: Bad news, we're going into war. I'm not sure if we're ready. I'm trying to read up as much as I can on battle strategy, but we all know that's more of Techno's thing than mine. Could you text me any advice or something on wars? I know you're good at that stuff. Atlantic Empire and all that, you know? Anyways, hope you're doing well. Talk to you soon maybe :D_

_\--_

_WilburSoot: Hey dad, we won!! I know Tommy told you already, but I wanted to tell you myself! I'm the president of our land (self-elected haha). Life, liberty and the pursuit of victory!_ _No one really listens to me since the war has ended, but I have an idea to gain back their enthusiasm! An election! I think once I'm actually elected as president, everyone will listen to me again. I just want the best for our country and I want them to know that. Let me know what you think :)_

_\--_

_WilburSoot: The election backfired a little. It seemed like a good idea but now me and Tommy are exiled. Schlatt - you remember him right? - is the new president now and he claims he wants the best for the nation, but I don't know. Apparently exiling me and Tommy is good for L'manberg._

_WilburSoot: do you think I'm petty? i just wanted the people to be happy, but they seem happier without me._

_\--_

_WilburSoot: phil please reply._

\--

Wilbur scrolled through his texts, awake in the middle of the night. The first half of them had been marked as read, but there were no replies for any of them from his dad. He pushed away his feelings for bitterness. It didn't matter much in the end anyway. (Did he want Phil to see him at this moment? When he's hit rock bottom and pushed away everyone and everything he ever cared about, with his eyes set on destruction? When he's had made a deal with the devil himself? When he's planning his own funeral?)

Their "allies" were all in Pogtopia, getting rest for the final battle that was to take place at dawn. Wilbur was the only one awake. He deserved a final night to himself, didn't he? _(Cold and alone, that's what he deserved.)_ After all, this was where it ended. Whether they got (L')Manberg back or not, it was going to be gone the next day. (At this point even Wilbur had no choice.)

Maybe it was a mistake making that deal with Dream (hell, it definitely was a mistake) but he knew he couldn't carry out with Plan B if he didn't. As much as he wanted all this to end, L'manberg was still _his_ unfinished symphony. It wasn't going to go down by anyone else's hands but his own. _(It was funny the amount of theatrics he brought into his problems. "Overdramatic bitch" is a good middle name for him. Ha. That sounds like an insult Tommy would come up with.)_

_"No matter what happens, you blow up Manberg." He looked at the outstretched hand of Dream's. This was Wilbur's decision. He could take the deal, or he could just walk away. Back to Pogtopia and back to Tommy. He needed that gunpowder if he was to blow L'manberg up, and no one else other than Dream would help him gather it. And ultimately, whatever happened, it would be this decision that ends it all if he took this deal. His own shaky hands clasped Dream's in a firm handshake._

_Dream smiled. "Here's the gunpowder you had asked for." Almost a whole inventory's worth of gunpowder was handed to him. That was plenty to blow up Manberg and perhaps even beyond._

_"Thanks."_

Wilbur now fiddled with his communicator, as he couldn't help but wonder about what Phil would think about all of this. What he would have said if he ever replied to his messages. Wilbur wondered if things would have gone a bit differently if he had gotten a reply back.

Tommy got a reply back. Phil replied to Tommy. After the war, that's all that Tommy would talk about, and everytime Wilbur would smile back at him and think of the best excuse to stop the conversation.

A sudden urge overcame Wilbur as he wanted to see what Phil had sent Tommy. After all, Wilbur deserved to know what Phil thought of the grand battle for freedom. _(The highest moment of his life, and no one was there to see it.)_

He headed silently to Tommy's bag that was already packed for the oncoming battle and took out his communicator. He found that Phil's name was at the very top of the list.

< _Five unread messages from Philza >_

"Fuck it." Wilbur muttered and opened the chats. He was just about to scroll to the top when he saw their most recent conversation. Hands shaky, he started reading.

_TommyInnit: Wilbur's going to blow up L'manberg. "Plan B" as he calls it. If we don't defeat Schlatt tomorrow, everything goes boom. I don't know if we can do it. I don't want to lose everything, but I also don't want to die. Dream (like the fucking bastard that he is) is siding with Schlatt. It's practically another war but this time we don't have L'manberg or each other._

_Philza: Wilbur won't blow up L'manberg, Tommy. You guys will defeat Schlatt and everything's going to be okay._

_TommyInnit: Phil, if you were here, would you side with him like Technoblade?_

_TommyInnit: Am I the one who's in the wrong?_

_TommyInnit: Are you proud of us?_

_< Unread messages>_

_Philza: You're doing what you believe is right. And that's what matters._

_Philza: Techno had always been keen on chaos (his whole motto is anarchy, remember?) so in some sense I guess it makes sense why he would side with Wil._

_Philza: But as far as I remember, Wilbur had never been hellbent on destruction._

_Philza: I don't know what I would be proud of Wilbur for. Wanting to blow his home up? His friends? This isn't the Wilbur that I know. I think he lost his way._

_Philza: I'm still proud of you, Tommy._

Wilbur flinched. He set the communicator down and took a deep breath. A bubble of laughter tore through him and he felt like crying.

It was not what he had been expecting. Of course, that was his fault. He should have known earlier on. From the very beginning. He was too tired, too cold to deal with this anymore. Wilbur shook his head and made up his mind. He shouldn't be reminiscing about a father and a country that never loved him.

He barely even realised when it became morning. Technoblade was the first one up, and barely even noticed that Wilbur had gotten any sleep. The pig man sat down next to Wilbur, probably to discuss the plans for the day. He knew about what Wilbur was planning to do. It was only them and Dream. (Of course, neither of them knew what Wilbur planned after the destruction of L'manberg) Techno had Withers prepared if all hell does go loose and things don't go the way he planned. Dream was really just there for the chaotic ride.

Gradually, everyone started getting up and preparing for doomsday. Saying farewells to each other and cherishing memories and moments.

Wilbur just blankly followed them all.

Even though it shouldn't have been surprising that Technoblade had grinded for the fight (it was Technoblade, after all), Wilbur was amazed at everything that he saw in the room. The amount of things that the man had and given to them was practically worth much more than many things that L'manberg provided. (L'manberg was a poor nation, after all. They had been depleted of all their resources in the beginning of the war and hadn't recovered since. The people probably blamed Wilbur for that.)

"You should wear some armor, Wilbur." Technoblade said, gesturing to the last set of netherite on displace. "We can't have you dying on us man." (The words were said lightheartedly, but the tone was shaky. Techno was worried about him. Wilbur wanted to laugh. _Not worried about him, worried about the plan._ )

"Don't worry, Technoblade. I don't plan on dying in battle." It really was funny how he had a way with words so he could tell the truth and lie at the very same time.

The geared up and (for the first time) the not-underdog team assembled at the railways. It was too early in the morning for there to be any form of trains, but Wilbur could almost hear them breezing by. Tommy and Tubbo surged forward, everyone now full of energy and determined to win the war. Wilbur lagged behind and watched the group of people who really didn't need him. Tommy was a great leader, even as a kid.

Looking at Schlatt in the camarvan was pitiful. Wilbur almost shot him out of pity, but couldn't help but grin as he watched his old friend die of heart failure. _That's what he deserved,_ right? It was a very anti-climatic ending to his story, but Wilbur couldn't care less anymore. Everyone stepped outside of the camarvan and Wilbur stepped forward. He had wanted Tommy to be president once. Back when he wasn’t… whatever he was now. And if Wilbur knew one thing, it was that he trusted himself.

"Tommy, take your place on the podium." His words silenced majority of the crowd before they erupted into a cheer.

"Yeah!! Let's go!!"

"Tommy is going to be such a great president!"

Tommy gestured for the crowd to be quiet. "Um, thank you. But I can't become the president. Because Dream, we're not done. So Wilbur, this is your spot, big man."

His legs almost moved automatically as Wilbur's brain didn't process that he was up on the stage until Tommy whispered to him, "See, peacefully worked. You don't gotta blow everything up anymore."

He nodded but felt the guilt of lying creep up on him. The urge to drink came with it.

A crowd of L'manbergians stared up at him. No one wanted him as president anymore. That much was obvious. He was too far gone to believe that the people still trusted him. He knew that he was never going to take back L’manberg, at least not after the damage that had already been done when Schlatt took over. Not after they all realised how broken he truly was. Plus, he didn't really deserve presidency, did he? (Deep down, Wilbur was just making excuses; he didn't want to feel hope about the future of L'manberg again just to blow it up in the end. It was better to pretend that he felt truly empty and that everything wasn't satisfactory anymore.)

It was fine. No one was going to be president in the end anyway. It didn’t matter.

He stepped down. Gave it to Tubbo who everyone liked more. He tried his best to ignore the disappointed look that Fundy gave him as soon as he stepped off the podium for Tubbo to take his place.

"I'll be back." No one had even heard him to say goodbye.

_Chekov's gun._

What was it that he had built L'manberg for? Friends? Family? His own ego? Whatever it was, it was too late to turn back. He had failed countless of times to pushing the _goddamn button_ , but this was it. No going back.

It was all or nothing. It was the fact that he couldn't have everything that he decided that everyone should have nothing. Or it was because he was so alone and tired that everyone else should feel that cold too. Whatever the reason was, he was to press the button for it.

"What are you doing."

_There was no way. That voice was-_ "Phil?"

How could Philza be here? The man was always too busy with his hardcore worlds and Techno and Tommy to give a _damn shit_ about Wilbur.

"I- I wasn't doing anything!" Hysterical, wasn't it? How he still craved for his dad to say that he was proud of him. How, no matter _what_ happened, he was _always the disappointing one._

"Uh huh." A beat of silence. "I'm getting on right now."

"Wait, what?" Of course, his dad was only there to witness Wilbur's failures. The moments when he couldn’t help L'manberg, couldn’t help his brothers, when he couldn’t even help _himself._ "D-Do you want me to get you from spawn-"

He turned around and his voice faded off. _Dad_ , he wanted to say. _I'm sorry_ , he would have said. "Do you know what this button does?" was what he said.

Philza hummed, strolling up to Wilbur. "I do."

So he knows. And he probably thinks Wilbur is a huge disappointment _(Nothing’s changed much_ then). Wilbur wanted to say something to ease the tension in the room. That's what he always did. He had a way with words and could negotiate his way out of almost everything. But he was absolutely speechless. What could he say to make things better? He couldn't back out of this. Not anymore.

He heard fireworks upstairs. So Techno had followed through with his plans. He was probably waiting for Wilbur's cue before launching the withers. This was his moment. He had to do it. He had to push the button.

But with his dad in the room at him, looking at him with the expression he knew so well _(disappointment, what else could it have been)_ , he couldn't do it. He wanted to cry suddenly. Wilbur didn't even remember the last time he had openly cried. He was always the one who had to keep up personas and appearances. The easy-going, musically talented, middle child. Or the hardworking, dedicated leader that puts his people before him. Or the calm, over-protective single father. But vulnerable was never something that described him.

"I- I've been _so close_ to pushing this button like 7-8 times, Phil. I can't _not_ do it anymore." He almost winced at how broken and devoid of life his voice sounded, even as he was yelling.

"Wil-" No. He wasn’t going to hear a lecture about how he was a good kid, just mislead. How he was not the person that everyone thought he was, how he was the most disappointing son there was, how he was a fucking _failure_.

"There was a saying, Phil. By a traitor… He had a saying." His voice was eerily calm for the inner emotional hurricane he felt. Philza looked at him quizzedly, not knowing where he was going with this _(He would have, if he had bothered checking Wilbur's messages)_.

"It was never meant to be." A hiss signalling the end.

It _was_ never meant to be. Not for him. From the very beginning, the odds were always stacked against him. Having gifted older brother who is told around the campfire as a legend. A younger brother who knew how to cheat the system and manage to become the hero in every scenario, even if occasionally he was a prick. He wasn't the father figure to a kid who didn't want or need him. Hell, Fundy probably wanted Wilbur out of his life! And L'manberg? They didn't want Wilbur. Why else would Schlatt have been voted in? And even Schlatt had said it to his face: Wilbur wasn't cut out for presidency.

Wilbur didn't bother to move. The TNT might as well take him with everyone out there. He didn't want to have to face his father, or anyone for that matter. He slowly raised his hand in a salute, his final tribute as his whole world blew up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more of a longer one! Wanted to publish quickly but Phil does play a big role and I wanted to run through loose threads. Next chapter coming on the 16th! Anniversary to the explosion and the rise of Ghostbur! :D


	6. My L'manberg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you know who the traitor is, Tommy? The traitor's Wilbur."
> 
> the finale

_How had it come to this?_

When the smoke cleared, the first thing Wilbur felt was the embrace around him. _Phil?_ He wanted to sink in the embrace and pretend that everything was okay one last time, but no, things needed to be done. He slightly shoved his father as he stood up, and tried not to wince at Phil's broken, soot-covered wing. (Hah, maybe the wing could be a metaphor for him. It no longer served it purpose and should just go.)

He vaguely heard screaming and crying around him after the button had gone, but all he could hear was a ringing in his head and his gaze was fixed on the crater that stood in L'manberg's place.

Technoblade was the first person that Wilbur saw, a firework loaded into a crossbow and his inventory packed with withers. His supposed partner in crime looked towards him and nodded. He was so willing to be brought out into the battlefield for Wilbur- not even because he was the "Blood god", or whatever, but because he actually cared about Wilbur. He sided with him for everything, stood up for him and was willing to fight for him. Maybe it was Wilbur who had led him down this dark path.

Across him, on a stone platform, Tommy was running to Tubbo, frantically checking if his best friend was alright. When he spotted Wilbur, he silently pushed Tubbo behind him and just _stared_. Tommy and Tubbo, the two younger brothers of Wilbur that had been sent to war too quickly, too early. _His fault, his fault, his fault._ It was Wilbur who dragged them to the front lines, and who would leave them there.

He spotted Fundy, injured but alive. He saw everything he saw in Sally in him, and he wished that maybe he didn't have to go so quick. He wished he could still spend time with his son, make up with him, tell him so many things _(I'm sorry)_ and hug him close. But he wasn't ever meant to be with people as amazing as Sally and Fundy, and he hoped resentment from his actions wouldn't carry on. He hoped someone would be there for his son, and that someday, Fundy would forgive him for truly being the worst person _(father)_ ever.

He saw Dream and his team and didn't feel any resentment. Why were they even fighting again? Why was there a civil war? Why did all of this even happen in the first place?

A small crowd was starting to gather below in the aftermath of the explosion. He saw Niki, and Eret, and Quackity, and Karl, and Everyone, just look around at the remains of what was once their home. One by one they were looking up and seeing the traitor face to face. The look of horror, anguish, pain, tiredness and anger crossed everyone's faces, and Wilbur turned around so he didn't have to see that disappointment anymore.

Where was his sword... maybe this was it?

"Wilbur?" A voice cracked as a hand reached out to him and Wilbur was face-to-face with a tired Philza Minecraft. God, his sword, where did he put it again?

One last final act, and then the finale. He spotted his sword laying in the ground, blown away by the explosion.

"Kill me, Philza." He had planned to do it himself, but since his dad was here anyway... Honestly, Philza probably wanted to kill his stupid, disgraceful, not-even-worthy-to-be-called-a-son child.

 _"You're my son!"_ Wilbur looked up without even thinking as he stared at his father. After all this time, did he seriously still think that Wilbur was part of their dysfunctional family? The cold dragged him down under again, and he swallowed his fears and worries and concerns and in a long, stretched-out second, shoved his sword into his fathers hands and guided it right to his abdomen. He had been a soldier, after all. (His death was not a soldier's death. A disgraced death, really.)

"Wil!" Philza exclaimed as Wilbur grinned and started to fall. His dad caught him, and pulled him tight. His grin started to falter as he was in his father's embrace, and he tasted something salty in his mouth. Tears? He didn't really think he had any more tears left to cry. His shaking hands grasped onto Phil's coat as he took a shuddering breath.

"Thank you." He whispered as his eyes slipped close for one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! And that's the end of this! It was fun to write angsty Wilbur :'D
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
